


the important things

by SxnsaStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SxnsaStark/pseuds/SxnsaStark
Summary: Margaery, Sansa and their two children spend the evening going through a collection of old Stark family prom photos.





	the important things

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to asoiaf modern au where there is no magic except for the fact that the starks' direwolves are immortal because i say so

Margaery loves her wife. She truly does. Sansa Stark-Tyrell is five feet and eight inches of pure charm and beauty and a knack for baking lemon cakes just right. She's levelheaded and clever, a perfect wife, a doting mother, a loving sister and, in the words of Margaery's own grandmother, "somewhat acceptable" - high praise coming from Olenna Tyrell.

That's not to say she's not without her faults.

Sansa has a habit of losing her keys and she has the worst taste in soppy romantic films imaginable. She's arguably the second biggest lightweight Margaery knows - Loras still reigns the champion - and she takes an eternity and a half to get ready before a date.

And she's a hoarder. Of the extreme variety.

Margaery gets it to an extent, she does. She loves saving photos of the kids and Sansa. She treasures some of the kids' better artworks. She still has the cinema stub from her and Sansa's first official date. (It's a cliché setting sure, but there's certainly a story behind it). So she gets it. Sort of.

But Sansa saves everything. From the kids' weaker art pieces, to each and every dog collar of Lady's throughout the years and every ticket stub from every godawful film they saw on the double dates they went on with Renly and Loras all those years ago.

It's becoming something of a problem, Margaery thinks one Wednesday evening as she rummages through ancient stacks of Olly's primary school projects in an attempt to find her phone book. She's just about given up hope when she happens upon what she thinks is her phone book, only to find out it's actually Rickon's secondary school diary. Margaery thumbs through it absently. Her brother-in-law has always had horrendous handwriting she realises.

She sighs, giving up her attempts to find her phone book and resolves to talk to her wife about the situation.

It's a blustery Friday evening when she gets around to doing so. The winds are incredible strong and rain is pattering down heavily, but the electric stove has heated up the room nicely. Sansa is humming to herself as she knits, Lady curled up on the rug directly across from the fire. Olly and Anna are sitting on either side of the room, Olly playing mini games on his phone and Anna with her nose buried inside a book.

It's a picturesque scene. Margaery almost hates herself for intruding on it.

"Sansa?"

"Yes darling?"

It's almost shameful how her wife's pet names make her stomach flutter even after all these years. She represses a smile. "Sansa, do you think we could throw out some of the old stuff we have lying around? I know you love holding onto things, but it is a bit, well, cluttered I suppose."

Sansa looks surprised. "Cluttered? But we can't throw away our things honey. They're important."

"No they're not mum," Olly says rolling his eyes. Margaery was clearly tempting the gods when she opted to name her son after her grandmother and she's sorely paying for it now. He's got all of Olenna's snark mixed in with the temperament of your average fourteen year old. "We've got so much shit lying around that really should have been thrown away like a hundred years ago."

"Language," Sansa reprimands. Anna sniggers in the corner and Olly glares.

Margaery sighs, determined not to let everyone go off track. "Olly's right. I mean do we really need," - she grabs an object from a shelf at random, "a jewellery box Arya used when she was ten?"

Anna looks amused. "Since when is Aunt Arya a jewellery person?"

"She never was," Sansa says fondly. "She used to store her pet slugs in it."

Margaery mentally resolves to scrub her hands thoroughly. "And we need it because why exactly?"

Sansa looks sheepish. "Okay, I admit it. I hoard things. Sue me."

Margaery can't help but smile. She crosses the room and sits down on the sofa beside Sansa, curled up against her so as to catch her wife's familiar flowery scent.

"You know I love you," she says gently. ("Gross," Olly mutters). "You're my everything."

Sansa grins. "You don't have to sweet talk me babe. We'll do a clear out tomorrow."

Margaery smiles and plants a quick kiss on Sansa's lips. ("Extra gross," Olly mutters.") "I love you."

"Love you too. But we've got to keep the important things, alright? Like - " her eyes do a sweep of the room. "Oh! Like this!" Sansa casts aside her knitting, nearly jabbing Margaery with the damn needle in her enthusiasm. She bounds across the room and seizes an old photo album that has clearly been gathering dust for the better part of the last decade.

Margaery raises a sceptical eyebrow. "What is that? A visual documentation of Jon's emo phase?"

Sansa pulls a face. "Very funny. It's actually a visual documentation of Stark proms throughout the years."

"Okay, that does sound pretty cool," Margaery admits, her interest some piqued.

Sansa beams. "Told you so. Kids, do you want to see your uncles and aunt in their awkward teenage years?"

Olly scrambles over eagerly and even Anna casts aside her book in curiosity. Sansa settles down beside Margaery on the couch, curled up against Margaery's side, the kids overlooking on either side.

Sansa opens the book to the first page and Anna squeals. "Is that Uncle Robb?"

Olly looks aghast. "What's that on his face?"

Margaery giggles. "I'd forgotten about that stupid beard of his."

Sansa laughs. "He's tried his best to do just that. I'm pretty sure he tried to burn all the photographic evidence he could get his hands on."

Margaery shakes her head. "And to think it was considered cool back then."

Sansa shrugs. "I'm pretty sure Jon tried to warn him off it."

"Who's that girl with him?" Olly interrupts.

"You don't recognise her?" Sansa says. "That's Jeyne Westerling."

Olly looks shocked. "Aly's biological mum? Did Uncle Robb actually go out with her?"

Margaery grins. "He did. For a whole year I believe. They actually broke up on prom night if memory serves correctly."

Olly grimaces. "Awkward."

"You're right," Sansa says. "Robb got so drunk that he ended up drunkenly confessing his feelings for your Uncle Theon, right in front of Jeyne."

Anna winches. "Ouch."

"Jeyne was a good sport about it though," Margaery points out. "She got over it. Eventually."

"She did," Sansa agrees. "The girl is a saint. I mean, what kind of person would agree to have the child of the guy who used you as a coverup for his own sexuality for the better part of your secondary school years?"

"Me," Margaey points out. "That's literally what I did for Renly."

Sansa scoffs fondly. "Totally different circumstances. You always knew Renly was gay. Jeyne genuinely had no idea about Robb."

Margaery laughs. "None of us did until that night. Robb included."

"So when did he get with Uncle Theon?" Anna asks.

"Right after prom," Sansa says. "Mum and Dad took a while to adjust but they did eventually. You have to understand, when we were growing up it wasn't exactly accepted. Selyse Florent actually warned Mum that it was contagious and she should keep Robb away from the rest of us."

Olly smirks. "Is that where you and Uncle Bran got it from?"

Margaery raps him lightly on the forehead. "Don't be cheeky. Keep going Sansa, I want to see the rest of these photos.

Sansa turns the page. "Oh god," she says. "Jon's emo phase is always a lot worse than I remember."

Anna looks horrified. "Is that eyeliner?"

Olly bursts out laughing.

"At least Robb's ugly choices counted as fashion back then," Margaery says with a laugh. "There is no way Jon's style were considered cool in any way at any point in time."

"Who's the girl with him?" Anna asks. "That's definitely not Aunt Ygritte."

Sansa snorts. "Oh god, Jon and Ygritte in school were ten times worse than they are now. They were constantly fighting and breaking up and getting back together within the space of the week."

"That's how we all knew they were made for each other," Margaery points out.

Sansa laughs. "True. But they had broken up right before prom, so Jon ended up taking Val. From what I can remember, she ditched him during the night and ended up making out with Alys Karstark, but Jon didn't mind all too much given that him and Ygritte had gotten back together by that point.

Olly grins. "Figures."

Sansa turns the next page and pulls a face. "Not one of my prouder moments."

Sansa looked lovely on her prom night as far as Margaery is conceded. Soft red hair elegantly styled and a beautiful strapless blue dress that clung to her in all the right ways. The boy she's pictured with however is a different story. "Joffrey," she says pulling a face. "The worst and best thing that ever happened to the pair of us."

"Tell the story!" Anna says immediately.

Margaery laughs. "You know the story love."

"I know," Anna insists. "But I want to hear it again."

Olly groans but Margaery can tell he's listening earnestly, despite having heard the story over a hundred times. "It was the summer after your mother's prom," she reaccounts. "She was working in the local cinema and had taken an extra shift unbeknownst to her then boyfriend Joffrey." Even the name makes her feel sick. She takes a breath and continues. "Classy as ever, he decided to take the girl he was cheating on her with to the cinema in question. It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever seen a guy do, and I grew up with Loras."

"I cried," Sansa says softly, picking up the story. "And I wanted to curl up into a ball. But you wouldn't let me. You took my hand and marched me up to him and made me confront him. It was the scariest thing in the world. But I'm glad I did it. And then you ended up taking me to see the film when my shift was over."

"And then we exercised our revenge scheme," Margaery says fondly. "That was fun."

Sansa giggles. "I'll never forget the look on his face when Lady started growling at him in that old warehouse we convinced him was haunted."

Margaery grins. "Or when we snuck Arya's pet tarantula into his gym bag."

Sansa smiles. "And amid all those crazy schemes we accidentally fell in love along he way.

"Best accident of my life," Margaery says, hating the soppy tone in her voice but unable to contain it.

Olly coughs. "When you two are done being gross, can we keep going?"

"I suppose," Sansa says teasingly and turns the page.

Anna frowns. "Where's Aunt Arya's?"

"You'll see," Sansa promises. "What do you think of Uncle Bran and Jojen? They were the first ever gay couple to go to our school's prom. It was just about the bravest thing I've ever seen."

"It's cute," Anna decides. "Theirs is the cutest one yet. No offence."

"None taken," Sansa says.

Olly frowns. "Are they high in that photo?"

Sansa splutters and Margaery bursts out laughing. "You'd be hard pressed to find a photo of Bran and Jojen's first few years together where they weren't high."

"What's high?" Anna asks curiously, in all her ten year old innocence.

Olly opens his mouth, obviously ready to explain but Sansa turns the page firmly. "And Rickon's. God I forgot what a mess he was."

It's true, Margaey thinks. Nothing Rickon is wearing matches, from his absurd yellow blazer and unknotted tie to his glaringly green trousers and scuffed trainers. He's not even looking at the camera. But he's looking down at Shireen with such unquestionable love, that she's returning with a beam, that the picture makes Margaery's heart swell.

"Wow," says Anna. "I really like this one."

"Me too," says Sansa. "You know, despite his ridiculous attire Rickon was the perfect gentleman all night. That didn't stop Mr. Baratheon for giving him after summer school as a punishment for an entire month afterwards."

Olly looks gobsmacked. "Is that even legal? Poor David. Imagine having that guy as your grandfather."

"He warmed up to Rickon eventually though," Margaery says. "He kind of had to when Shireen made it clear how much she loved him."

Sansa nods fondly. "He did. The Christmas interrogations get less and less hostile as the years go on according to Rickon."

"Is that it then?" Olly asks.

"Not quite," Sansa says and turns the page again. "Aunt Arya, remember?"

Anna frowns. "That's not a prom photo."

"It's not," Sansa agrees. "Because your Aunt Arya never went to her prom. She had Gendry over for a sleepover on prom night and the two of them spent the night watching films and stuffing themselves with popcorn on the pullout couch. Mum took this photo the next morning."

Olly smirks. "If Aunt Arya knew you had this she'd go ballistic."

"Probably," Sansa agrees. "But it's too cute to let go off."

"It really is," Margaey chimes in. Arya and Gendry, still fully clothed are fast asleep on the sofa, Arya with her back to Gendry's chest, his arms wrapped around her stomach. Not even in a sexual way, it's something that can only be described as protective. Arya is leaning into his touch and in sleep her hand had evidently gravitated towards his, their fingers intertwined. It's exactly the kind of photo Arya would hate.

"It's not a prom photo," Anna says. "But I think it might be my favourite anyway. Tied with Uncle Bran's maybe." She yawns when she's finished speaking, her sleepiness apparent.

"Bedtime," Margaery says at once. "You too Olly."

Olly protests weakly but he caves pretty easily, tiredness taking him too. Within a mere few minutes the kids are both sound asleep in their beds and Lady is snoring in her own bed in the kitchen. Margaery returns to the sitting room and smiles at her wife who is still thumbing through the old photo album.

"Sansa? Are you coming to bed love?"

Sansa nods. "Yeah. Give me a second." She rifts through the photo album one last time before putting in back in its place on the overcrowded bookshelf.

"Clean out tomorrow," she says. "I promise."

Margaery smiles and makes her way towards her wife. "I'm holding you to that," she warns jokingly. She takes Sansa's hand in her own and leads her towards their bedroom.

"But we have to keep the important things," Sansa insists.

Margaery privately thinks that Sansa constitutes every little thing as important because that's just the kind of person she is. Most likely they probably won't end up clearing out all that much, but to her surprise she finds that she doesn't mind all that much.

She leans in towards her wife. "Of course," she says with a smile against Sansa's lips. "We'll keep the important things."

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always beautiful!!


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